


The Aftermath of the Destructive Path

by 221blackandwhitestripes



Series: The Sound Of Your Heart [10]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Heavy Angst, M/M, Save Us All, This had to happen at some point but it doesn't make me less sad, i promise it will get better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28811475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221blackandwhitestripes/pseuds/221blackandwhitestripes
Summary: He should have known.That was what struck Oswald the most, the thing that turned betrayal to rage, the thing that sent him flying at Ed’s throat.The thing that pushed him to pin Ed against the wall and not let go.He should have known.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: The Sound Of Your Heart [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1018875
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	The Aftermath of the Destructive Path

**Author's Note:**

> So.... I'm _sorry_
> 
> This one might hurt a lil bit.
> 
> Song: [Love The Way You Lie (Part II)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXTuV8iCTxg) by _Rihanna_ ft. _Eminem_

_Now there's gravel in our voices_  
_Glass is shattered from the fight_  
_In this tug of war, you'll always win_  
_Even when I'm right_  
_'Cause you feed me fables from your head_  
_With violent words and empty threats_  
_And it's sick that all these battles_  
_Are what keeps me satisfied_  


He should have known.

That was what struck Oswald the most, the thing that turned betrayal to rage, the thing that sent him flying at Ed’s throat.

The thing that pushed him to pin Ed against the wall and not let go.

_He should have known._

“Fuck you, _Ed._ ” His breath on his face, gasping, pleading. “I should have known.”

***

**Earlier:**

“You’re leaving now?” Oswald raised his eyebrows, not bothering to sit up. He was comfortable enough laying right here, thank you very much.

“I-I’ll be back soon!” Ed assured him.

Oswald rolled his eyes, stretching out his legs. “Whatever.”

“Okay, well...” Ed hopped over and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. “Bye!”

“Yeah…” Oswald watched him go. “Bye.”

The door closed in the quiet.

_“Who knows? He may even be convinced by the end of the week!”_

Oswald glared at the ceiling. Fuck his brain for this shit. Didn’t it know how _tired_ he was of all this? These fears and doubts smoking up the air, making him suffocate. He wanted to just… _be_. **Live** , for God’s sake.

_“Who knows? He may even be convinced by the end of the week!”_

Oswald may have simply heard wrong. Or maybe he was misinterpreting it? Ed had _promised_ he could be trusted this time.

_But…_

And there it was: Oswald knew. He just _knew_ that Ed wasn’t telling him everything. Did Ed _really_ think he hadn’t missed the hesitation in his eyes this morning? The shiftiness? The nervous twitching in his fingers?

Oswald Cobblepot was no fool and Edward Nygma wouldn’t fool him.

 _“I love you, Oswald.”_ And he hadn’t replied because he _knew_. Or at least suspected.

“Fuck!” Oswald groaned, rolling over to mash his face into his pillow. He _wanted_ to trust Ed, but he _couldn’t_. Not yet. Not unless… not unless Ed could _prove_ that there was nothing to worry about; nothing he was hiding. Then maybe they could _finally_ work past everything that had happened. Hidden notepads and broken hearts be damned.

Who the fuck decided relationships should be this stressful? Maybe he really _should_ get a massage. He fucking needed one.

_Vvvvv. Vvvvv. Vvvvv._

Oswald frowned, looking around for his phone and answering it.

“Yes?”

“Heya, boss, it’s ya friendly neighbourhood assassin here!”

Oswald rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Zsasz?”

“Just a few things, um, if I were to say someone was interested in _seeing_ you and ‘employing’ you for your services, would ya be interested in that?”

Oswald frowned. “My what?”

“Don’t worry, it’s Fish, so I already knew you’d say yes. That-that’s what I said, so… can’t take it back now.”

“You what?” Oswald sat up. “Fish is looking for me?”

The receiver crackled with background noise.

“Zsasz?”

“Well, it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you think ‘looking’ is the correct word when I’ve already told her where we are.”

Oswald’s palm had never hit his face so hard. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, though. She’s probably only coming because she has some kinda plan. You know, after what happened in Gotham.”

There was a moment before it really sunk in. A moment where Oswald opened his mouth again with another question, another sarcastic statement, another insult.

But then he shut it. And his world crumbled just a little bit more.

“What’s happening in Gotham?”

Zsasz took too long to answer.

“What the fuck is happening, Victor?!”

“I don’t know boss, some sorta virus thing. You know, I don’t really care about that sciencey stuff.”

Oswald grit his teeth, raking his free hand through his hair. “Put your fucking boyfriend on the phone. Now.”

The receiver rustled and crackled until a much steadier voice spoke.

“Oswald?”

“Explain to me, _clearly,_ WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS HAPPENING?!”

It was a sentence and a _half_ , Fries explaining how a madman with blood and wine turned into the next Gotham apocalypse. The domino effects made his head spin, the phone in his hand almost slipping from his palm as he found himself sitting again.

Dear local Gothamites: NEWSFLASH, WE’RE ALL FUCKED!!!

“Not much else I can say,” Fries finished off.

“No, no, thank you for explaining, Victor.” His hand was shaking. Oswald stared at it for a long moment. The trembles moved up and down his fingers like aftershocks. And then they curled into a fist.

What did you think? That Oswald Cobblepot was _scared?_ Of some idiot who thought he could burn the same city that _he’d built?_ His blood cemented the bricks those bitches stood on.

No. He wasn’t scared. He was fucking _furious_.

“Are Ivy and Bridgit okay?”

“Yeah, I already called th–”

“Then get your boyfriend’s shit together,” he spat, standing to start packing, “We’re leaving as soon as Ed gets back from–”

It was instinct that made him turn first, rather than the click release of a pistol’s safety.

“Back from where?” The nozzle was pointed between his eyes and Oswald found himself growing calmer, stiller.

“My, my, if it isn’t it Barbara Kean.” _How the fuck did **she** know where he was?_ “Just push into my room, why don’t you?”

She cocked her head. “With pleasure.” But as she walked through the doorway, it was Todd the bellboy who stepped behind her, hands folded against the back of his head, pushed forward by the toe of Tabitha’s leather boot.

Todd, for his part, was holding up considerably well, letting himself be directed to the corner without being an idiot and trying to fight. Oswald could respect that.

“Get him a chair,” Barbara ordered. Tabitha rolled her eyes but went into the sitting room to search for one. Meanwhile, Barbara took out a second gun and pointed it at Todd without looking.

“So,” she began, “Where is that _Nygma_ anyway?”

Oswald shrugged, pushing the phone into his pocket without ending the call. “Who knows? Ed has a mind of his own these days.”

“Very evident,” Barbara smirked, “What with him coming up with this plan by his little old self.”

Oswald swallowed, ignoring the fact that his stomach had begun to twist and sink. “Well, he’s not exactly a team player is he?”

This feeling was far too familiar and Oswald flashed back to that morning in that chair with Barbara leering over him. 

_“I won’t let you hurt him!”_

Two hours after that, he’d sank to the bottom of Gotham river. That was all dear Eddie’s plan too.

Barbara was laughing and Oswald made sure he didn’t show any expression on his face. “So, Pengy, where is he?” She cocked her gun. “I know you know.”

Oswald coughed, instead nodding to Todd. “What’s with the civilian?”

“I had to find out where you were staying somehow, _Ozzie_ ,” Her face turned sour, “Where the hell is he?”

Oswald rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I ever thought I could be friends with you.”

Tabitha came in carrying a chair and Barbara turned her second gun on him as well. “Fucking _speak._ ”

Oswald sighed. “He’s out in town, running a few errands. _Fantastic_ timing on his part, one great big coincidence, I’m sure.”

_“I think we should have a quiet day tomorrow. J-just hang around the hotel for a bit. Go to the pool or just… read for a while.”_

“That’s the thing now, isn’t it?” And she was all smiles again. “Can’t trust a snake like him. Not for one minute.” She sat back on the bed, keeping the gun trained on him. “When will he be back?”

Oswald pursed his lips. “Soon.”

“Call him.”

Oswald shook his head.

Barbara gestured and Tabitha pressed her second gun against his temple. “Call. Him.”

Oswald sighed and took out his phone, ending the call with Zsasz quietly before finding Ed’s number.

Elsewhere in the room, another phone rang.

_Fuck, Ed, really?_

Barbara smiled grimly. “I suppose you better get that.”

Oswald sighed and began searching around for the source of the ringing. He found Ed’s phone buried deep in the pocket of yesterday’s jacket. He pursed his lips, rejecting the call. Ed’s lock screen flashed before his eyes.

_He was being pushed into that river again._

It wasn’t quite Barbara Kean’s flashing name that disturbed him. It was the text below. 

_**BarbaraKean:**_  
_So, have you killed him yet?_

Oswald knew. He _knew_ he couldn’t trust him. But, somehow, he’d been played for a fool anyway.

Tabitha snatched the phone out of his hand, pushing it into her pocket.

“So, I guess we’ll be waiting here then,” Barbara sighed. “Pity.”

Oswald’s phone buzzed with a text. A warning.

He didn’t look. He knew.

“You know Ed,” he chuckled, watching the girls closely. Barbara kept her gun trained on him but didn’t seem to be paying too much attention, picking at her nails on her other hand. “He’s so…” Oswald paused as if in thought, waiting.

Tabitha lowered her gun slightly, glancing at her partner.

“Panic at the disco,” Oswald finished.

It was less than a beat, Oswald swinging to grab his gun from the table he’d taped it under. By the time he turned back the Victors had already appeared, two guns each, Barbara and Tabitha equally covered. Oswald swallowed, trying to calm his heart after the sudden spike of adrenaline.

He levelled his gun at Barbara’s face. “Touché. Wouldn’t you say?”

Barbara’s eyes were shifting side to side, looking for an exit or a plan, a trapped animal cornered into a stalemate.

Oswald chuckled. “Do the math, my dear. You’re outnumbered.”

“Is that so?” Barbara turned both guns on him, a snarl curling her lip, “How sure are you that your cronies could kill me before I kill you? And if I take my shot, what’s to convince them to carry out your orders?” She grinned, manic. “That’s the cost of being a slimy little _bitch_. You can’t buy loyalty.”

Oswald pursed his lips, nodding, “You’re quite right, of course. But you see, Victor here loves nothing more than a job well done. And, besides that, he loves killing people.”

Zsasz nodded in happy agreement.

“And as for his boyfriend over there,” Oswald shot him a look, “I think we know well enough that it isn’t ‘loyalty’ I expect from him.”

Fries shrugged. “True enough.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Barbara spat. “Ed will be back soon, won’t he? Do you really think he’s going to take your side in this? He’s been working for us for _months._ ”

Oswald swallowed dryly, trying not to show a glimpse of shock or fear on his face. “You think I don’t know that? I **do**.” _(Now)_.

“And so, I’m guessing,” Barbara giggled, kicking her toe against the carpet in front of her like she was toeing the line of stepping forward, “That you must know why he brought you here.”

Oswald pressed his lips together and kept his gun trained on her. 3 to 2, 3 to 2, he was in control here.

“Why he chose _this_ weekend. _This_ trip.”

Oswald didn’t need answers. He _didn’t_. He wasn’t like Ed, he could live without them.

Besides, he was beginning to think he didn’t need Barbara to tell him.

“Go on, Ozzie,” Barbara grinned, “Tell me he tricked you.”

Oswald laughed, but it sounded empty to his own ears. “If you’re implying Ed’s a rat bastard, I already know.”

Fries shot him a look.

“The man pushed me off a pier for fuck’s sake.”

Barbara smiled again. “You see, that’s funny. That’s _real_ funny.” Oswald rolled his eyes at the fake gangster impression. “Because you’ve got me thinking… if you’re so sure that Ed’s a ‘rat bastard’,” She curled her lips at her own crappy impression, “Then why did you even come here? What were you hoping to achieve, walking into a trap like this?”

“I–” But he hesitated. And he knew, in that hesitation, he’d shown his hand. Because Oswald had every instinct screaming at him from the start that this would be a trap. But she was right; he walked into it anyway. Why?

Because…

Because he’d hoped he was wrong.

Because, even after everything, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe _him._

And here he was, played for a fool once again. What an _idiot_.

He should have known.

He heard the thundering footsteps down the hallway, the rush to push open the door and he watched as the man who had too much power over his heart tumbled to his knees before him.

Without question, he aimed his gun. “Hello there, Eddie.” He spat it like it didn’t hurt, like it meant nothing. As Ed found his legs, he stepped forward and cocked his head. “Care to explain?”

Ed avoided his eyes and Oswald just _knew._ “O-Oswald, I-I…” He kept his eyes trained on him, “I swear, I…” Another step closer, “I can _explain._ ”

He should have known.

That was what struck Oswald the most, the thing that turned betrayal to rage, the thing that sent him flying at Ed’s throat.

The thing that pushed him to pin Ed against the wall and not let go.

_He should have known._

“Fuck you, _Ed._ ” His breath on his face, gasping, pleading. “I should have known.”

“O-Oswald!” He choked out, tears forming in his eyes.

“Don’t cry, Eddie,” Oswald simpered, “You’ll rust so _dreadfully_.”

Ed’s fighting slowly began to dissipate, like a man’s last breaths, like he was actually…

_Dying._

He threw Ed away from the wall, sending him to his knees. Ed gasped, kneeling in front of him in a twisted version of worship. “Oswald, please, _please_ understand.”

Oswald chewed on his tongue and stayed silent.

“I didn’t tell you about the virus and everything because I wanted you _away_ from it.”

“So you knew about that, too, huh?” He chuckled mirthlessly, felt his fist tighten, nails indenting skin. “You know I’m not the only person stuck in that hellhole, right? _Ivy’s_ there. Bridgit. People who are actually loyal to me.” People he cared about. People he’d sacrificed for. People he couldn’t lose.

Ed shook his head like he didn’t understand and Oswald scoffed. “I can’t believe I even _tried_ to trust you. But I guess old habits die hard, huh?” He shook his head. “It’s always whatever _you_ want, isn’t it Ed? Everything else is secondary.”

He looked around at Barbara’s gleaming cat eyes and Tabitha’s fierce scowl. They all knew. He was just a joke to them. A fiddle to be played over and over by the same masterful hand.

“Well done, Eddie. You almost go away with this one. Could have ended up in the drink all over again.” He pushed his hands into his hair before he registered the gun against his scalp and pointed it back at the culprit. “You know what, Eddie? You hurt me, and I hurt you back.” He didn’t hesitate before pulling the gun back and smacking Ed in the face with it. His glasses cracked, barely hanging on as he cradled his cheek.

“I know,” Oswald laughed at himself, “Not much compared to a bullet in the fucking _chest_.” So he kicked him in the heart, hoped it hurt like falling into that river had hurt, like learning he was nobody had hurt, like the day he woke up alone.

Barbara and Tabitha stirred behind him, but the Victors’ guns kept them locked in position.

Oswald began to swing with his gun again, but Ed’s hand suddenly shot up, holding him by his wrist to keep the nozzle pointed at the ceiling.

“You think this is _my_ fault?” he gasped. “This was never _my_ fault. All of this could have been avoided if you weren’t such a pathetic _coward_.”

Oswald stepped back, wrenching his arm from Ed’s grip. “I am many things, Ed, but not _that_.”

“Can’t even say it, can you?” Ed laughed hollowly. “I can’t believe I even tried to make this work.”

“Oh, you _tried?_ ” Oswald sneered, “Can’t say that made much of an impact. You still betrayed me, Ed. You’re always fucking–”

“You betrayed me first!”

Oswald stopped. Ed was glaring now, hands caught in fists, a snarl smeared across his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You gave me a _life_ ,” Ed spat. “Told me it was _friendship_. But it wasn’t, was it? You just wanted another little lapdog, another person you could play with, make a pawn in your little chess game. You said you loved me, but that was because you just liked how fun it is to _manipulate_ me. Wouldn’t let me get distracted, either. No source of happiness but you, is that right? You want to _**control**_ me.”

Ed shook his head and Oswald laughed at the ignorance.

“ _ **No one gets to control me.**_ ” Ed’s leg suddenly kicked out, striking Oswald's bad ankle. He cursed, tumbling to the floor. His fucking weak spot. His _fucking_ weak spot.

Ed crawled on top of him and there was nothing he could do except push violently against the arm crushing his windpipe and spit in his face. Ed was shaking slightly, tears crawling down his face.

Like rain on a pier.

Oswald tried to turn his gun on him again but Ed crushed his fingers with his knee until his grip loosened and he could grab it from his hand.

Oh. _So this is it. The stalemate isn't so stale anymore, huh?_

“Is this how you want it, then?” he choked out, attempting some fire-crackle laughter around a gasp. “Kristen, Isabelle, is it my turn now?”

“I thought–” Ed gasped but didn’t finish, just loosened the arm over his throat so he could breathe again. Oswald coughed up into his face, hoping he hated it, hoping he would just fucking end it all already.

The restlessness in the room ebbed and flowed, anxiety and tension edging the walls.

“You…” Ed finally ventured, “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Never,” Oswald spat, “You’d kill me again in the blink of the eye.”

Ed laughed and nodded. “Fuck you too.” He stood, keeping Oswald’s gun. Oswald sat up, ignoring the pain in his leg in order to glare Ed down. “We’re going,” he snapped at Barbara and Tabitha.

“Um, no,” Barbara hissed, “We want Penguin. I’m not leaving without him!”

“Why?” Ed chuckled, “He’s useless. Look at him,” They turned in a synchronized playact and Oswald finally realized who he was to them; a man with nothing. Not a leg to stand on. A man who relied on other people’s strength to further himself. A pile of bones. “He’s just–” Ed laughed, “–A broken toy.”

And they laughed so loud that they didn’t hear the door open.

The cold rush of air was imminent, but not that of a howling wind or a frozen tundra; this was an electric storm.

The air crackled and the hyenas suddenly noticed, all eyes on that open door now. Oswald turned.

“Hello, _Oswald_.” 

Oswald shivered and didn’t know if he was looking into the mismatched eyes of a devil or an angel. Maybe both.

“Fish.” The name moved like a wave, but Fish Mooney cut through it cleanly, walking into the room and leaving her guards posted at the door.

“No need to stop for me.” Fish purred in a way that absolutely suggested the hell that would be paid if they dared to speak over her. “I just came for _him_.” 

Oswald spat the taste of betrayal from his mouth and forced himself to sit up. Damn his leg, it could fall off for all he cared. “Do I get a say?”

Fish tilted her head and smiled. “Of course. As long as you say yes.”

And he smiled right back.

“You’re not taking him.” Tabitha stepped forward and suddenly everyone remembered they were holding guns, the sound of metal clicking in and out of place harmonizing throughout the room.

"He’s ours by right,” Barbara insisted. 

Fish tutted. “My, my, it’s been a long time, but you’re popular as ever, _penguin._ ”

Oswald scraped together his humour and swallowed it like drugs with a grin and a shrug. “Guilty!”

They chuckled together, and the Victors laughed too. Even Todd attempted a nervous giggle.

“Okay, yes,” Fish nodded, crooking her fingers at her guards, “Which one of them should die first?”

“We don’t need him!” Ed suddenly yelped. “We’re _more_ than happy to leave.”

“Um, no we’re not,” Tabitha stated.

“He doesn’t speak for us,” Barbara asserted. “But I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“Um,” Victor (the assassin one) raised his hand, “If we get a say, I’d just like to point out that Fish asked for Oswald first. And, ya know, we have more guns and people.”

“How was she here first?” Barbara scoffed.

“Um, she called ahead,” Zsasz laughed, “Shows what you know.”

Ed was looking at him again. God, Oswald wished he could just _stop this_. Just tell him to look away, or _listen_ , or tell the truth, just to do as he was _told_ for once, to let go and–

Suddenly, Ivy’s words came back to him. _“I don’t care if I trust him or not. That’s what the perfume’s for.”_

The _perfume_.

Where had he hidden it again?

“Barbara, let’s just _leave_.”

Oswald slowly leaned back until his shoulders were resting against the bed. The others were distracted, so he focused on his task, shuffling in increments towards his suitcase.

“ _People, people_ , please.” Fish clapped her hands and Oswald had to look at her as he slowly slid the zipper open. “This is _not_ a negotiation.” Oswald’s fingers closed over something made of glass. 

“Well, I can’t help but _agree._ ”

He shut his eyes in relief, retrieving the vial.

“Zsasz,” And Oswald looked up, because he’d heard that tone from Fish before, “Shoot the bitch in her shoulder.”

“Wha–”

_**Bang!** _

In the distraction, Oswald forced off the top, splashing it all down his neck like Ivy had shown him. Barbara screamed and Tabitha shouted. Two more shots fired. Oswald sprang up and dragged Ed into his embrace.

 _Close, close, close,_ Ed’s nose buried in his neck and they’ve been here again. Hips snapping, breaths gasping. But sometimes just handholding. Warmth enfolding.

Truth withholding.

In the cacophony, he still heard Ed’s inhale. The riddler relaxed in his arms. Held him closer.

“Take Tabitha’s guns,” he instructed, “And don’t give them back.”

Ed broke away and Tabitha was disarmed, then forced onto the floor when she tried to take them from Ed’s hands again. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Give it here,” Oswald demanded, held out his hand like a master looking for the newspaper from their dog.

Ed pushed one into his palm and the other into his waistband, looking up through his eyelashes like he had _hope_. Oswald pushed forward.

“Now Barbara’s.” Everyone’s eyes were on him, but Oswald refused to look away, watching as Ed put pressure on Barbara’s shoulder to force her to let go of her pistols. Tabitha tried to take a swing at him, but Ed blocked it and pointed both nozzles at her.

“Get on the floor, Tabitha.” He spoke like a quiet storm. “Please, just…”

“Fuck you, Nygma,” she spat as she knelt.

Ed shrugged. “We never liked each other, anyway.” Barbara sobbed into the ground, clutching her shoulder. Ed turned slowly to him. “You want me to leave. Don’t you?”

“Leave?” Oswald chuckled. “Ed, how long have you been working with them?”

Ed swallowed like he didn’t want to say it, but say it he did, liquid forming in his eyes. “Since before the river, Oswald.”

Oswald looked at him for a very long time. So he was right all along. Ed didn’t trust him and couldn’t be trusted back. He was resentful for every little mistake made between them, and now all there was was _hate_. Tricks, trials, tests, tribulations. So fucking _much_ between them.

Goodbye.

“Ed,” and he was shaking, furious all over again, “I want you to take Barbara and her sad excuse for a partner downstairs to the carpark. Get in your car and _never come back_.”

Ed’s gaze wavered, tongue scraping over his teeth, brows quivering. “You mean ‘come back’ like _here_ , or–”

“Ed,” he ground out, “I don’t want to _see_ you anymore.”

Ed nodded almost immediately. “Understood.” He saluted like it was a joke, smiled like he was a friend, shrugged like it was nothing. “Here.” He handed the guns to Zsasz who pushed them into his empty holsters and kept his own cocked.

Tabitha looked like she was going to fight it, but she was outgunned and outnumbered and her girlfriend was moaning on the floor. “This isn’t over,” she growled as she helped Barbara up and pulled her to the door.

“We’ll see.” Fish stepped to the side to let the trio by. Ed shot him one last look. _What was he trying to prove?_ Oswald ignored it.

“So,” Fish looked over them with her eyebrows raised, “What should we do about that one?”

Oswald frowned. “Wh–” He glanced to the corner. “Oh. Todd.” The bellboy was shaking, barely meeting their eyes. “I think his sister’s sick or something. We can just pay him.”

“Yes!” He gasped. “I don’t even know what’s going on! You can just let me go!”

“You really want a loose thread?” Fish questioned.

Todd stared at him. _“Please don’t tell my boss.”_

Oswald set his jaw. “Just pay him enough that he doesn’t have to work in this shithole another day and he won’t say a thing.”

 _“Thank you,”_ he mouthed.

“Don’t,” Oswald snapped at him, “Just take the money and go.”

And he did, knowing well enough to leave and not look back.

Oswald sighed, sitting on the bed. His leg was screaming and he could feel bruises forming around his throat. “What do you need, Fish?”

“Gotham is in chaos, my little penguin,” she pointed out, “And who better to control the chaos than us?”

Oswald nodded. 

Fish tilted her head. “You seem distracted. What was that before? Between you and… the tall green man.”

Oswald ignored the question. “Why didn’t you contact me directly?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t have your number.”

“But you had _Zsasz’s?_ ” he scoffed.

Fish rolled her eyes. “Honey, you think that just because I was dead for a few months I wouldn’t have _Victor Zsasz_ on speedial?”

Zsasz smirked. “Oswald was dead for a few months and didn’t have me on–”

“I wasn’t _dead_ ,” he hissed at him, “And my phone got fucked up by the river.”

Zsasz tilted his head. “Wasn’t your phone waterproof?”

“Yep,” Oswald sighed.

“Wow,” Fish remarked.

“Yeah, our city is garbage,” Zsasz agreed.

Victor (the cold one) held up his hand. “I second that.”

“Thanks babe.”

Oswald glared at him because _was he seriously happy right now? What, were they in love or something?_ But he forced himself to look away and take a deep breath, save the rage and anger for the next time he saw Ed.

If he saw him.

No, he’d see him again, Oswald would make sure of it.

“Oswald,” Fish’s hand appeared on his shoulder and he looked up. “Are you ready to go?”

Oswald licked his lips and nodded. “I’ll just… pack.” He looked around. Ed’s stuff was still strewn around, mixed in with his own. Like limbs intertwined beneath covers. Like hope leaking into his system, intruding on his logic.

Fish tilted her head. “I’m sure my boys can handle it. We need to get back to Gotham _now_.”

“Alright.” Oswald nodded. “Alright.” He stood and stumbled on his sore leg. 

“Here.” Fish offered her arm. “Let me.”

He swallowed. “Thank you.”

He let her lead him outside to an armoured car and vowed to leave this weekend behind forever.

If only things could be that simple.

_This morning, you wake, a sunray hits your face_  
_Smeared makeup as we lay in the wake of destruction_  
_Hush baby, speak softly, tell me how awfully sorry_  
_That you pushed me into the coffee table last night_  
_So I can push you off me_  
_Then after that, shove me, in the aftermath of the_  
_Destructive path that we're on, two psychopaths but we_  
_Know that no matter how many knives we put in each other's backs_  
_That we'll have each other's backs, 'cause we're that lucky._  


**Author's Note:**

> I... I promise it'll get better.... _eventually_
> 
> Any comments/kudos are greatly appreciated


End file.
